The Great Gig in the Sky
by Fuu18
Summary: A short, sad tale set to Pink Floyd's song that matches the title. Warnings: Shounen ai themes, romanticized suicide. SJ More of a low R than anything else.


****

Hello, fellow Yuugiou fans. Just a quick greeting and disclaimer: This is my first fic, and definitely not my last. I do not own Yuugiou, nor do I own the song The Great Gig in the Sky by Pink Floyd, and this is a yaoi-ish ficcy. My suggestion for this fic, even if you're not a fan, is to download the song. It make a hell of a lot more sense when you've heard it, and could efficiently accent the fic if set on repeat while reading. Well, enjoy huns!

****

The Great Gig in the Sky

By Fuu18

"Something's wrong…"

Upon that sensation he left his haven and ran. 

* * *

__

I am not frightened of dying,

Anytime will do, I don't mind.

Why should I be afraid of dying?

No reason for it.

You've got to die sometime…

The honey-eyed blonde held a razor blade in his hands contemplatively. 

//David Gilmour is right, I shouldn't be afraid of this. Just one slice a wrist and it will be over with. My father won't hurt me anymore, my friends won't have to put up with this happy façade, and he, the fucking object of my desires, the reason for all my wet dreams and infinite arousal, he will finally be rid of the burden I've caused him. He'd hate me even more if he knew what I thought of him.//

Pressing the blade lightly against his wrist, he waited until the haunting voice of Clare Torry wafted past him out of his speakers.

//Ah, The Great Gig in the Sky… what a perfect song for right now. Soon I'll join that gig, maybe learn to play the guitar, and I'll wait for the rest of the Floyd to join Roger Waters and I, we could start an ether-real psychedelic band in the summerlands while waiting for reincarnation. Well, he could wait for that, I would be waiting for him, and maybe, if he didn't show, I'd wait for a better life, one without this family, without this mask, a life without him…//

He broke down into tears, knowing full well he could live neither with nor without him, being gone for now really would be best, for both of them.

He pressed down on the blade as Torry's voice became frantic, and slid it slowly down his arm. Crimson fluid accumulated at the broken flesh, trailed down his palm and dripped in individual droplets off his fingers. He licked a bit of the viscous element and contemplated it. 

//I wonder what Yami no Bakura finds so tantalizing about this stuff, it tastes like metal, almost like eating a penny. How could he honestly be willing to savour this?//

As his head grew light and his vision began to blur, he realized he had to finish off his other wrist lest he merely pass out and have to live through this torment again. 

Torry's voice began to quiet and drift off and he felt as if she was singing a farewell to all of her listeners. Not that anyone knew much more about the song than that it was written by Pink Floyd. He laughed at the familiarity of under appreciation and pressed the blade to his right wrist, slicing it faster than the last, knowing he would pass out momentarily.

//Hah, I'm glad I chose to do this in my room,// He remarked bitterly to himself, //at least whoever finds me won't have an easy time removing the stains.// Jou chortled lowly and fell to the floor seemingly at a turtle's pace. As he finally made contact with the red-stained blue carpe, he could do nothing more than whimper. "My Blue Eyes," He ground out "I hope you have a happy life… I … I love you, Seto."

His last words slipped out and the Blue-Eyes of all his fantasies crashed through the door oxymoronically in slow motion, hearing Jou's last phrase.

"JOU!!" Seto screamed, absorbing the scene around him. "Jou! K-Katsuya! Please no! Don't leave me, I love you! Don't fucking leave me like this! You don't deserve this, you shouldn't have to go! My love, PLEASE!" He pleaded with it, but to no avail. For the first time in nearly a decade, Seto cried, unrestrained. Tears of torment and mourning for it's lost soul. It's pulse was already gone, it's skin and blood and tears already cooling and beginning to dry. Seto buried his face into it's blonde locks and didn't let go until the paramedics prid him off it's shell.

"I was too late." Upon that realization, he turned inward and outward simultaneously. Felling the emptiness of his interior and the loneliness of the room. The only thing that was left was the music.

The CD player, being on repeat, voiced softly and to the point; 

__

I am not frightened of dying, 

Anytime will do, I don't mind. 

Why should I be afraid of dying?

No reason for it…

You've got to die sometime.

And the voice of Torry rang in his head, haunting him, betraying to him Jou's reasoning and his soon-to-be location. "Hold on, my love, I see now that you intended for me to hear this, and I know I'll find you. I'll see you soon, my soul mate, in the summerlands… wait for me, my precious, precious boy. Wait for me in a garden, playing a guitar. 

~Owari~

* * *

Well, Huns, what do you think for my first fic? I wrote this at a birthday party, and I can't say for sure whether my other fics will be quite as… sad? Do I need a beta? I'd love some feedback, constructive or otherwise. I will use the opinions to hopefully improve. Thank you, all, for giving me a shot.


End file.
